Craven word and stolen glimpse in splintered mirrors hide
wayward motion castrated - in abstractions abide
forever chasing wistless prose for this inane pursuit
never a finger raised in courage or song sung for the mute
Brush stroke precise validation until the night is late
lay me down in a bed of tongues - the safety of debate
sobs muffled by endless palms as psalms fill up the glass
eyes won't open all the way, can't smell the leaking gas
Stay that hand ferryman, these two coins are for me
I've tried my luck at swimming - the salt can keep the sea
the cutpurse crafts his currency around our callous keep
slay this sour stagnation or send my soul to sleep
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Author:
Quemis (
Offline) - Published: May 3rd, 2018 00:50
- Comment from author about the poem: This is a poem about paralyzing fear. About the comfort of words, of philosophy and abstraction. I am screaming at myself to get in this maelstrom of suffering that is the human experience and fucking carry some water and tend to the wounded. Instead I stand here horrified, year after year. Even now, this is a desperate attempt to get myself to move. But here I sit on my computer, too scared to act, just brave enough to write. Fuck.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments1
You talking that talk there?!
You know it.
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